


UnWrapping

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set 2017; He is supposed to help her wrap Christmas presents, but has something else in mind...





	UnWrapping

He was supposed to help her wrap Christmas presents for their family and friends – she wrapping, he tying ribbons – but while her pile of wrapped gifts grew at a steady pace, his was much slower at gaining in size. More often than not, she felt him watching her.

He had done the same a few days ago when they had been out shopping. When his eyes hadn’t been on her, his hands had been – more often than usual. It had driven her crazy, had made it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand, which was probably why they had forgotten two gifts despite having been armed with a complete list.

Now it was more of the same.

At least, he was keeping his hands to himself – for now. It would be an exaggeration to say he kept them busy with the ribbon, but something to that extend.

It hadn’t escaped her notice that he had pushed his chair nearer to hers when he had sat down again after making them a fresh pot of tea. He was no within striking distance.

For a moment, she considered getting up as well just to adjust the position of her chair, too. But that would be childish (not that they were above childish behavior at all times; they had their moments), and she surely could take whatever he’d dish.

A few minutes later, he dropped his scissors, and after pushing his chair back and forth, was seated even closer to her.

He was definitely up to something. He was subtle and sneaky about it, but she had known him for too long, was too familiar with his game to be fooled, to miss or not recognize the signs. What she was unable to tell, though, was what exactly he was up to.

Since she had no choice but to wait for it as he wouldn’t answer a direct question with a straightforward reply. In the light of that fact, she calmly continued cutting wrapping paper. Then he tenderly slipped a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

She stilled immediately. When she looked up a second later, he was already concentrating on the package in front of him again.

Next, he let his touch linger when taking the next box out of her grasp.

Shy teenagers on a first date, that was what it felt like. It was maddening.

After a few more of those “random”, “innocent” touches, she was squirming slightly on her chair.

Under the pretense of relocating some of the finished packages out of the kitchen, he got up, brushing a hand along her shoulder as he went.

Self-appointed task accomplished, he didn’t sit down again but stopped behind her chair, swept her hair and loose sweater aside and trailed his lips over the bared skin.

The light kisses to her shoulder had her hum as she put down the wrapping paper and the book she had been about to wrap.

“We’re not done yet,” she said but leaned her head to the side to allow him better access instead of rebuffing him.

The action made him smile against her skin. He knew he had her, that no matter what she said, she wouldn’t turn him down, at least for now. Therefore he pushed on, slid his hands down to her chest, cupping her breasts through the soft fabric of the pullover.

She rolled her head back, rested it against his shoulder while his lips and fingers continued their sensual dance over her body. Any verbal protest, meager as it was to begin with, was lost in a whimper. He knew her too well, knew how to play her – especially once he started touching her. He was good with words and looks, but nothing beat his touch, particularly not when his mind was set on turning her into a quivering mess of desire and carnal need.

“I think we deserve a break,” he rasped into her ear while he slowly but surely pulled up her sweater far enough for his hands to comfortably slip underneath it.

For a fleeting moment, she regretted having foregone a bra on this quiet day at home, but then his touch felt much too good to be hindered for another frustrating second.

“I love these HBT days,” he murmured, obviously agreeing with her and her fashion choice.

She expected him to rid her of the pullover, but apparently, he was quite content with her state of (un)dress, delighted in her hums and moans as he rubbed her nipples between his fingers, gently massaged her breasts.

His tongue and lips danced along her neck, stopping at all the special spots he had discovered during the years of studying her body and its secrets.

Her squiring increased. She was about to move one of her hands that had been gripping the edge of the table between her legs to add some more stimulation she desperately craved, to relieve some tension, when he pressed a soft kiss onto her cheek and tugged her sweater back down, leaving her cold from one second to the next.

She stared at him incredulously, utterly frustrated at being abandoned like this. First he got her all worked up only to then dump her just like that? If she didn’t know him any better, she would have felt used.

“That was fun,” he said as he sat down on his chair again and reached for another box.

She hummed – a sound of agreement that somehow managed to sound threatening at the same time.

By his stiffening, she could tell he had caught the flavor of the tone. Nonetheless, he pretended to be unaffected and kept measuring the ribbon.

Despite the lack of his touch, her hand did what it had intended to, actually went a step further no, sliding into her pants to allow for more direct contact.

He continued to ignore her until a deep moan escaped her. Then his head shot up, is eyes wide at the sight that greeted him. His breathing sped up.

“Since you like our couch better than you like me…”

He swallowed hard. He was almost sure that it was an empty threat for she preferred his company to an empty bed, but she could be stubborn. So there was always a chance for her not joking and actually seeing it through.

He wanted to protest, to explain, to reason with her, to placate her, but found himself tongue-tied by the bewitching image of her flushed with arousal, touching herself.

Undeterred by his gaze, she kept up the steady rhythm of her fingers. His eyes jumped from her face to her crotch and back up, unable to decide where to focus.

As if it had a mind of its own, one of his hands palmed his growing hardness through his jeans.

It was her “Oh no, you don’t” that made him realize his action.

“Love,” he almost begged.

“No. You asked for this,” she pretty much panted.

Complying, he rubbed his hands over his face, groaning in frustration.

Payback was a bitch.

However, he didn’t have any patience for playing by the customary rules right now. She hadn’t been the only one affected by his earlier actions, and she had just skyrocketed his level of arousal.

Surveying the table, he concluded that it wasn’t an option for what he wanted to do. Too much stuff, too much stuff that shouldn’t be damaged thus couldn’t be carelessly shoved aside. He began to run through other options before shaking his head and making a decision.

He pushed his chair back with enough force for it to almost tumble over, startling her, and pretty much jumped to his feet. Grabbing her by the back of her neck he captured her mouth with his in a bruising kiss. With the other hand, he pulled hers from her pants.

A second later, her chair was on the floor and she on her feet, her wet fingers in his mouth. He took a moment to relish her taste, but was slowly stepping backwards in the direction of the hall.

“Bedroom,” he stated once he had released her finger from his lips while still holding on to the hand, tugging her along. “Now.”

Snickering, she followed him willingly. She had clearly won that round – and was looking forward to the next one.

The End.


End file.
